Perception

Doubt

If you cared you could have told them to wait

Instead of leaving me bleeding on hook and bait

Struggling to deal with the shock and the hate

Feeling like meat you labeled second-rate.

We all make mistakes, but was this one?

Or a sign of our future to come?

Could it be that you're changing, or that the change is done?

Maybe it's been this way and my perception was spun.

Self-satisfaction under the guise of necessity

Left me standing alone while you were in ecstasy

I feel used and abused and cast aside selfishly

Grappling with the reality that you'd chosen them over me.

Nobody owes me their body or their mind

There need be no repayment for being kind

but I refuse to ignore and refuse to stay blind

To asymmetry so clearly underlined

You'd feed the mouth that bites you

And I know you'd love it too

Fruits of Friendship

I

sometimes need help

to pull through.

Trust

overcomes my

stubborn pride.

You

extend your ever

helping hands.

We

stand together

against woes,

will

strengthening our

joint defense.

Bond

growing with my

life-long friend.

I

truly treasure

your gentle aid.

Love

taking it’s place

in my heart.

You

are someone I

depend on.

Who am I?

I am independent.

I like being alone.

These are two qualities I've come to call home, but...

We've been together now

For just over a year

And I've already changed, so I've got this fear that.

I need you to be me?

Like eyes that need glasses, see?

Or contacts, whatever,

The point I'm making is

You're leaving soon. You'll come back, but will I stay here?

Longing

How I long for another's loving gaze,

and want for silken kisses, candy sweet.

How I desire the pure and simple phrase

that prompts my weary, longing heart to beat.

I long to see this life of mine complete

with gentle words caressing eager ears,

but sadly fate and I again compete

as I forever battle doubtful fears.

Despite my wants, despite my heart's defeat,

the truth always shines on through these tears.

No need for comfort, I will not retreat,

because the haunting darkness always clears.

Twisted Up

When life's going well

it gets hard as hell

to let myself frown.

When everything's swell

but my thoughts won't gel

I begin to drown.

Guilt, black and writhing

clings to me, hiding

and oh how it grows.

I know I'm whining.

I should be smiling.

This 'feeling' thing blows.

My mind should be fine,

life's all in a line,

smelling like a rose.

Although asinine

my heart's all malign

and I'm sorry.

Small Things

I rather enjoy the small things.

The laugh of the crowd, people standing proud,

A rock on the road, the croak of a toad...

I rather enjoy the small things!

But soon enough watching a cloud became disavowed...

Then Father Time showed to take what was owed...

And now I can't enjoy the small things!

What’s more, it seems others too have been caught up, like you!

We work and we toil against the rocks and the soil...

And now none of us stop to think of the small things...

If only we knew, if only there was some sort of clue

To learn the plot’s foil, to be freed from this coil!

If only we could enjoy the small things.

Shock

I laid sleeping

dreaming of love, lust, and friendship

comfortable and warm

insulated from the winter winds

when the lights jumped on

and the sheets flew away.

Now I'm awake

and worried I won't be able to

go back to sleep.

The Hungry Flower

We look at them, heart blooming,

for we hope they can complete us.

We speak with them, kind words falling like rain over a meadow,

for we think they can complete us.

We flock to them, like a bee to a garden,

for we want them to complete us.

We rely on them, as dependent as a growing bulb,

for we need them to complete us.

We become frustrated with them, as if we were a plant outgrowing a pot,

for we fear they could never complete us.

We abandon them, a wintertime plot,

for we know they could never complete us.

We do it all again, as repetitive as the sun in the sky,

for we do not know that no one can complete us.

Depression

Idiotic wretch,

You are my most familiar possession,

my very favourite obsession,

and so I think it's funny that you try to get away.

Fucking moron.

No amount of pharmaceutical repression

will sedate my twisted expression,

I'll just be here waiting for that single day.

Selfish prick.

Not a single soulful question

nor any moments of decompression

could ever bring colour to the grey.

Chickenshit.

So when you run out of medication

you might call it regression

but be honest, you know it's just a debt to pay.

Petulent asshole.

So who better than depression

to lead you to your funeral procession

and throw the black bouquet?

The Outsider

I wander through the wilds

In the distance lie lights as bright as my own starry nights

And just like the stars, the lights are never alone

I wander close to those hallowed walls

Tall and cold stone, so cold I feel it through my bones and it reminds me that I'm alone

But beyond these walls, beyond this cold, the flames of kindred spirits grow old

They dance and burn, warming one another in shared bliss, but all it does is remind me that something is amiss

I wander through the words, thoughts swirling in my head

They jumble and tangle, fumble and dangle like they're hanging on thread

They stick like stones in my throat

I open my mouth

Nothing comes out

Desperately clinging to the friends I could be meeting, I claw at the walls

Climbing up and up towards those hearth warmed halls

But my courage wanes, another failure, another bad memory found as I fall to the ground without a sound

and I continue wandering through the wilds.